The villain in the lines of love.

Not everyone made it out alive, between overdoses and hanging lives

There I lay between my pillow and the ward grasping my own tears in the night,

I was home but somewhere far somewhere lucid though still extreme more of a nightmare not a dream

And the last thing he spoke of was love on the level

His eyes had briefly sold his heart, and taking back his trade for wings
Would never have taken part

Not if I'd helped him from falling, not if my hand had reached his thoughts

Not if I'd seen the mirror he looked in, and taken that rope that he had bought

Not if I'd called for help
Dial-in a doctor for his meds he threw away

Maybe in another life he would have braced and stayed

I watch the shadows on the wall in silence, reminded by his laughing ghost, that love was strong enough for him
To leave behind the ones he loved the most

Somehow it gave him strength, yet confused he took his own life away

And I am left to wonder why, he could not be here today

If love he preached and spread by faith his own ways viewed the world and skies

Though I saw the darkness on his face, it seeps into tears from his very eyes

And schizophrenia took him down, it wore his Cape, without surprise

It was the villain in the lines of love, and he will never rise.

For a friend ❤️